Hermione Granger, Muggleborn Witch
by RHr Fan
Summary: Hermione recieves her letter of acceptance into Hogwarts. One shot, short ficlet. Please rr!


A/n: Okay, I know I left you guys hanging with that cliffhanger at the end of Chapter 5 of No Safe Haven, but I got a little burst of idea to write this. Maybe it was cuz I was waiting for a letter of acceptance myself...anyway, it's short, it's simple, it's cute. Read it if you want, and PLEASE review. And I swear, I'll get on chapter 6 immediately!

Disclaimer: Don't own this, no matter how much I rant about it.

Hermione Granger, Muggleborn Witch 

There was a girl, one extraordinary girl, sitting beside her window one fine summer day. The fan atop her desk blew the human-made wind to her face, cooling it from the radiance of the brilliant sun outside. This girl, this extraordinary girl, was quite unusual, but it did not seem so on that fine summer day.

Though, if the truth be told, Hermione Granger was odd enough as it was. Although she was a kind girl with a good heart, she had very little liking for socializing with kids her age. She was always found concentrating on a bit of homework, or immersed deep within the pages of a book, be it facts on the life cycle of a frog or tales of a magical kingdom alive with fairies and dragons. Thus she only found time to maybe speak on the phone a few times a month, with only one girl. The rest of the time, she preferred to keep to herself.

Her parents, both successful dentists, were very supportive of their clearly gifted child. They did, however, wish she would have more friends that she could go out with when she needed a break from all her work. Despite their efforts to convince her to meet people, she kept to herself in her neat room with its window overlooking the lawn.

Hermione was well aware that her parents were a bit disappointed that she refrained from sociality. She knew perfectly well that they thought she was overworked and stressed. She had no doubts that they wondered whether she fussed about her overly bushy hair and rather large front teeth (which she did, of course, but would never admit to anyone). But Hermione had other things on her mind, and contrary to popular belief, it wasn't all about schoolwork.

For one, Hermione Granger was a hopeless romantic.

It was true, although nobody knew, and Hermione vowed nobody would ever know. But she really was a hopeless romantic at heart. Sure, she'd read many fascinating books about alternate worlds full of magic and kings and queens, but when there was romance in them, she tended to like them even more.

But most of the time, Hermione wondered whether she really belonged in a place where people found it strange for her to be who she was. She knew the kids at school took any and every chance to poke fun at her large hair and her usual ton of books and her incessant perfectionism. And it became worse—and very peculiar—when she had arguments with them.

Take, for instance, the incident that had just taken place that very day, just outside the library. It had scared her half to death, and it was added to the lengthy list of strange events already kept in the back of her mind. This incident was definitely the most abnormal so far.

She had walked out onto the stone front steps of the library a few blocks from her home. Her arms were laden with her latest books, a few on the history of Egyptian hieroglyphics, one with a bit of science fiction in it, and a couple which seemed to be filled with the adventures, magic, and romance she so loved. She'd been walking cautiously down, trying not to trip so as not to drop her books, when someone called out, "Hey, Know-it-all, is your hair so big 'cause you read all that stuff?"

Hermione stopped. She craned her head around her stack of books and saw Melanie Keaton, the meanest, most despicable girl in her grade school. She wasn't a particularly good-looking girl; in fact, her looks matched her attitude most accurately. Her face was very asymmetrical, and she always wore heavy amounts of blue eyeshadow no only on her eyelids, but on her brow. She had a terrible case of acne and her hair was the color of yellow pus, as on many occasions she had attempted—and failed—to dye it blonde. She, being the most popular girl (although it was beyond Hermione why things were that way), naturally had control over everyone. Everyone except Hermione, whom she hated. Hermione, looking at the cold gray eyes of her nemesis, felt the blood in her veins speed up and her heart start pumping faster, boiling with anger.

_Don't lose your temper. Don't show any signs of weakness. _

Keaton was flanked by her usual gang of giggling girls, who wore so much make-up Hermione was very much surprised their faces weren't weighed down by it. They were all glaring at Hermione in the same pointed way that Keaton was, and Hermione was sure that they were doing whatever their leader did. She was sickened by their lack of sense of self.

"Well, I'm terribly sorry that you seem to find your head to be completely hollow," said Hermione haughtily, beginning to walk down the steps.

Keaton's glare sharpened. Her cronies all simultaneously put their hands on their hips, trying and failing miserably to look menacing. Hermione had to fight back a laugh at the absurdity of it all. "At least my brain is the size of a normal person's," Keaton said, and Hermione saw a smirk take its place upon her pudgy face. The girls around Keaton all said, "Oooh" in an undertone.

"Yes, that's right, if a normal person's brain were the size of a goldfish," Hermione retorted, looking at her directly in the eye. She wasn't usually forward, but seeing Keaton get so much pleasure from teasing her even when they weren't in school made her more hostile than ever, and the words were out of her mouth before she could rethink them.

Keaton's face grew dark. Her gang was muttering rapidly under their breaths, but they stopped in unison when their leader held up a stiff hand. Hermione felt her pulse quicken and this time she was both angry and nervous. Keaton was wearing the ugliest scowl Hermione had ever seen on her (and that's saying something). Keaton walked up to her, glaring sharply at her tower of books. She looked at Hermione with loathing for a full minute.

Hermione felt her eyes water. She was staring right back at Keaton, not daring to blink, not daring to show her she was frightened in any way, making sure the horrid girl knew how angry she was and how she was not about to back down. Keaton smirked and said, in a disgusted voice, "God, Granger...no wonder you're an only child, your parents must be horrified enough with you as it is."

There was an odd ringing in Hermione's ears. She felt something surge through her, and what happened after that was completely inexplicable.

Keaton screamed. The books that had been in Hermione's arms had flown out of her grasp, and they were now zooming around, attacking Keaton and her cronies. Hermione could do nothing more than stand with her mouth hung open, watching Keaton get beaten with a copy of _Hieroglyphics: A Study of the Language of Kings_. She was shrieking in anger, shielding her face with her arms. Her gang was squealing like pigs, trying to duck from the attack from the books.

"Hermione Granger, you're a FREAK, I don't know what you just did, but you SO will be sorry!" Keaton shrieked, knocking away the book that was hitting her, even though it only zoomed back up and attempted to batter her relentlessly.

Hermione's mouth was extremely dry. She felt her face grow cold, and she knew she must be panicking. And as she felt her heart slow down and her mind start thinking of explanations for such an occurrence, the books fell down, landing with _thumps_ on the ground. Keaton and her friends shot Hermione terrified looks, as if waiting to see if she would order the books to recommence their attack, but the poor girl just stood there, staring at the books in wonder.

"I don't want you anywhere _near _me, you weirdo," Keaton said breathlessly, and with a bark of, "Let's go," she and her friends ran down the street, shooting odd glances at Hermione as they retreated.

And all the time, Hermione stared at the books on the ground, barely registering whatever rubbish Melanie Keaton had said to her. She couldn't believe such a thing had happened yet again, some inexplicable incident that resulted from a surge of anger or nervousness on her part.

So she slowly picked up the scattered books, and when she had them again in the neat tower they had been in, she proceeded on home, barely noticing anything on the way.

Fine, she had said to her parents, the library was fine, and she had retreated to her room before they could question her odd attitude. And now, as she sat by her window, she wondered more than ever what was it that caused such curious episodes to happen around her, things she'd thought about endlessly and still found utterly perplexing.

Sighing, she picked up the book laying on her bed next to her favorite stuffed animal, a golden retriever puppy named Pygmalion. It was one of the books she had rented, one about an adventurer with a magical saber who traveled with a majestic stag. Another book filled with sorcerers and enchanted forests and whatnot. She took the book and the dog and placed them gingerly on her lap. If she could just find an answer to all this in a book, where she'd found everything she'd ever needed to find, things would be so much easier.

And that's when the owl almost crashed into her face.

She shrieked, out of surprise, fright, and frustration. Why would an owl be flying in through her window? The bird stood on her desk, nibbling at a pencil lying atop a fresh sheet of paper. As she gazed at it curiously, wondering how in the world there was an owl in her room in the middle of the day, she noticed there was a piece of yellow parchment attached to its leg. That was odd; she'd heard of messenger pigeons, but never messenger owls. Cautiously, she walked over to it. It did not notice her.

"Um...hello," she said, feeling ridiculous talking to an owl. It turned its brown face towards her, and opened its beak in greeting. Hermione almost jumped when she realized it was returning her salutation. When it saw her looking at it, it thrust its leg forward, hooting merrily.

Hermione felt her jaw start to drop. A _trained _owl was in her room, communicating with her. Shaking, she moved her hand toward the owl's leg and began to untie the knot fastening the parchment to its leg. When she realized the owl didn't seem to mind what she was doing, she quickly unwrapped the parchment from around its leg and looked at it, her hands still quivering madly.

It was addressed to her, in plain red ink. Hermione Granger, Orange room in the West Wing, 2410 Downey Road, London. It was for her. Still utterly flabbergasted, she broke the seal on the envelope, noticing that it bore what was apparently a crest of an H surrounded by a badger, snake, eagle, and lion.

She found a few pages inside, all written on the same kind of parchment. The first one bore the same crest as the seal on the envelope, and she noticed a banner under the H bearing the phrase, "_Draco dormiens nunquam titilladus_." Hermione's eyebrows furrowed together. She thought hard. "Never...dragon...never tickle a sleeping dragon?" she muttered to herself, looking at the peculiar emblem.

Then she noticed what was written on the letter.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc.,Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards) _

_Dear Miss Granger,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find an enclosed list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Owing to the fact that you are a Muggleborn (born to Muggles, otherwise known as non-magic folk), enclosed is also information about Hogwarts. We truly hope you consider this a grand opportunity._

_Term begins on September 1. We expect your reply by owl post by no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely,_

Minerva McGonagall

_Deputy Headmistress_

Hermione looked up from the letter. Her hands were shaking violently. The owl sitting on her desk was cleaning its feathers nonchalantly.

Witchcraft and Wizardry! A _school _for it, more like! And, egad, they were inviting _her _to attend. She glanced at the next few pages. They were the information the Deputy Headmistress had mentioned, that about the school that "Muggles" wouldn't know. Muggles. Non-magic folk. Which meant she was magical...

Hermione clapped a hand to her mouth. She had magic. She would be able to do magic. She was a witch with Muggle parents.

No, impossible, this was that of books and folk tales. This was some joke someone had cooked up, definitely, they must have thought it amusing for her to believe for a second that she could truly perform real magic.

"It's hard to believe, but it's true," said a strict, female voice. Hermione jumped about twenty feet in the air. She glanced around the room warily and saw the owl holding its beak open. She was looking at it with raised eyebrows when more words came out of the owl's beak. "Read the information, and welcome to Hogwarts!" Then it closed its beak and resumed cleaning its feathers.

Hermione shook her head. "Wait," she said.

The owl ignored her.

"Owl!"

Hoot.

"Eurgh. This makes absolutely no sense, there's nothing that proves that..." But her voice trailed off when she realized that indeed there was. How else would she have caused all those odd incidents? How else but with magic could she have made the books attack the very people who were pestering her?

"Maybe..." she said to herself, "Maybe I was displaying early stages of magic. Oh, but it must be more than that!"

She looked through the papers and found the list of tools and equipment in the envelope. Her eyes grew wide when she saw the word "wand" among the list of items, which included a standard size two pewter cauldron and a list of spell books. "Oh, this is most definitely real," she murmured, and she could not prevent a grin from spreading through her features.

She sank into her bed and read the information concerning Hogwarts silently. There were all sorts of interesting tidbits about the "wizarding world," like instructions on how to find her way to the platform of the train that would take her to Hogwarts, the Hogwarts Express. She'd have to run right through a solid barrier, for Pete's sake! The letter explained that certain instances—and they were becoming more and more common—brought along children with special, magical powers, like her, despite the fact that their parents had no magic in their blood whatsoever. It also explained that at Hogwarts the subjects essential to wizards for everyday life and occupations in the wizarding world would be taught to the students, and in their third year they would be able to pursue courses that sparked their interest. The letter ended by explaining that there would be a meeting for all Muggleborn Hogwarts students and their parents in a pub called the Leaky Cauldron, where the subject would be discussed more in detail and they would be told the essential places to buy the tools the students would need.

It was overwhelming and amazing and it filled Hermione with joy.

She looked up from the letter, realizing her eyes were slightly blurred by tears, and she thought about what her parents would say. She couldn't imagine their reaction, but she couldn't wait to tell them.

So, glancing at the owl one last time, she ran out of the room and into her father's library, where both her parents sat reading in chairs next to an open bay window.

"Mum? Dad?" she said softly, and they both looked up at her, smiling serenely. She took a deep breath and said, "An owl just flew through my window, and it brought along this." She held out the envelope, and saw her parents exchange perplexed glances. "It's...an invitation, to a, er, rather extraordinary school, really..."

She handed the envelope to her parents. They read the initial part of the letter, wide eyed and open mouthed.

"Magic?" her father murmured.

"A _school _for magic?" her mother said, scanning the letter once more.

Hermione nodded. "And it really exists, Mum, it does! The owl that came, oh, it was fascinating, it _spoke_, except it was more like it was a recording that the owl was delivering, and it said that it might be hard to believe, but that it's true, and it said, 'Welcome to Hogwarts' and everything!"

Mr. and Mrs. Granger were still looking apprehensive.

"Hermione..." her father began.

"Dad, please, there's information in there about everything, there's even a meeting that's supposed to be held next week for any student whose parents are Muggles—non-magic folk, like you—and they're going to tell them everything about Hogwarts in great detail and I imagine they'll make sure everyone understands what it's all about. And then there's a place they'll take us to where we can actually buy my equipment, like a cauldron and a wand—a wand!"

"Hermione..." her mother said.

"Mum, I know this is odd, I can hardly believe it myself, but strange things have happened to me, and I think they were early signs of magic, and you know I would really apply myself! It would be so exciting and such a learning experience, it would be wonderful!"

"Hermione," her father said, and she stopped talking.

"What do you want to do?" her mother asked.

Hermione looked from one to the other. The expression on their faces was unreadable. "I—I want to go, at least to the meeting at the pub, the Leaky Cauldron."

Her father nodded. "Then we'll go."

A bright smile lit Hermione's face as she ran to her parents and hugged them both. "Oh, thank you so much! I want to buy all the spell books and more, any books that'll tell me as much as possible about the wizarding world, really." She felt her cheeks begin to ache from so much smiling.

Her parents were looking at her warmly. "We don't doubt for a second you'll do just that, Hermione," said her mother, and she handed her the letter in its envelope. "You best send that reply with the owl."

Hermione nodded happily and ran back to her room.

At her desk, she saw the owl hopping around her lamp. She laughed and said, "Now, you'll be sending the reply to...who was it? Ah, yes, Mrs. McGonagall. Or I suppose she's Professor McGonagall..." Her voice trailed off as she looked around her desk for a means of writing. "Oh, dear, I don't have any sort of ink or parchment...I suppose pen and paper will have to do."

Neatly, she wrote in her tidy cursive handwriting:

_Thanks very much for the prestigious invitation. I look forward to attending Hogwarts. My parents and I will most definitely be at the meeting at the Leaky Cauldron. Again, thank you, and I hope to be at Hogwarts soon enough._

_Yours truly,_

_Hermione Jane Granger_

That would do. She doubted it had to be formal or very lengthy at all, although she did wish she could do a little more to it. Shaking her head, she said, "I best send it as soon as possible." She took the paper, folded it carefully, and looked at the owl. It looked back at her and obediently stuck out its leg. Smiling, she tied the paper around it. "Now," she said, the owl looking at her face attentively, "take this to Minerva McGonagall at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

The owl hooted softly, spread its wings, and then took off out the window, flapping its wings and quickly fading into the setting sun.

Alone again in her room, Hermione looked at her book and dog, sitting where she had been what seemed like hours before. She smiled. She was going to study magic at a school with other magical children. She would be living in the wizarding world. She would belong.

She picked up the book, amazed that she now knew a world like the one within its pages existed. On the cover was that adventurer and wizard, standing beside his faithful stag with his magical saber in his hands. On his other side stood a girl with brown hair, looking boldly at something off the boundaries of the picture. She was a witch, her wand clutched tightly in her right hand. And Hermione smiled.

At Hogwarts she would learn to be a witch. At Hogwarts she would learn to perform magic with a wand of her own. And perhaps at Hogwarts she would meet an adventurer like the one on the cover, a handsome wizard with stunning blue eyes and vivid red hair. Perhaps.

And here she was, Hermione Granger, hopeless romantic and Muggleborn witch.

A/N: Well, that was just something I wanted to write. I hope everyone liked it. Please review, and never fear, I am working on No Safe Haven! 8)


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